


Papillon

by hybridempress



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Eventual Romance, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hybridempress/pseuds/hybridempress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis was born and raised in France up until he was fifteen years old. When his father receives a dream job offering in England, the family moves there, and Francis is forced to go to a new school in a new country with new people and a new language that he barely knows how to speak. After being picked on by some of his classmates for his accent, a boy named Arthur stands up for him, and the two become very fast friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shakespeare

    Francis stared up at the three-story fortress that was about to become his new school. Saint John Academy. The most prestigious all-boys Roman Catholic school in all of England. An abandoned castle that had been renovated and turned into an education facility by a group of nuns in the late 1800's. There were enough rooms inside of it for it to be a boarding school, but thankfully, Francis' parents had told him that he was going to stay home. The last thing the poor boy wanted was to live at a strange school in a strange country with strange people.  
  
    He shrugged the straps of his backpack higher onto his shoulders, for they were starting to fall down. Behind him, his mother sat in the blue convertible car that she had driven Francis to school in. Other parents were also stopping their cars alongside the curb to let their sons out, and to watch as they ran into the building.   
  
    "Are you sure you don't want me to come inside with you,  _chéri?_ " his mother asked him, in English, but kept the endearing French word to give him comfort.   
  
    He was nervous, as any child would be upon starting their first day at a new school. It was worse for Francis, though, because it wasn't just the school he was going to that had changed for him. In the past month, Francis had moved to a new house in a new country and was being urged to speak a foreign language that he wasn't really the best at. He missed his home and his friends in France, and he hated struggling to speak a language that he had only started learning last year. Unfortunately there had been no choice for him. He was just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.  
  
    He nodded his head and smiled faintly at his mother. "I'm fifteen now, Mama. I'll be fine," he promised.  
  
    His mother chuckled softly. "Well, alright, if you say so," she said, smiling back at her son.  
  
    Francis nodded again. "I do!" he exclaimed.  
  
    "Be good then,  _bébé._  I'll come pick you up later, alright?" she said.  
  
    "Okay!  _Â bientôt,_  Mama!" Francis replied, waving to his mother before turning away from her and dashing into the school.   
  
    The inside of the school was almost more intimidating than the outside. The stone walls and columns looked cold and entrapping; like they wanted to keep him there forever.  _Well, it **is**  a boarding school,_ he thought to himself as he continued to stare at the columns, moving his gaze up to the ceiling.  _Thank God I'm not staying here._  
  
    Once he was able to mill through the mass of students that were gathered near the entrance of the school, he hid himself behind one of the massive columns and removed his backpack from his shoulders. With one hand, he held the straps and carried the backpack in front of himself. With the other hand, he unzipped the biggest compartment and dug through it until he found the map of the school that he had been given, as well as his instructions for the first day.  
  
    After reading the map and his instructions, he located the area on the first floor of the school where the lockers were. He memorized his locker number and his lock combination before shoving the map and the instructions back into his backpack, zipped it up, and slung it over his shoulders once again. He kept to himself as much as he could, touching other people as little as possible and getting to the lockers as quickly as he could.  
  
    Once the lockers were in his view, he scanned them to try to find his own number. 403. It was near the back of the lot. He walked over to it and fumbled with the lock while trying to put his combination into it. Once he got his locker open, he unloaded some of his heavier books into it before closing it and locking it again. Now, he just had to find out how exactly to get to room 512 for Maths.   
  
    He pulled the map out of his backpack again and studied it for a moment, only to find that room 512 happened to be on the second floor. As far as he could tell, there were no elevators in the school, so he would have to take the stairs. He placed the map back in his backpack, zipped it up, and threw it over his shoulders once again before walking away from the lockers and trying to find the stairs that would take him to the next floor.  
  
    They weren't terribly hard to find. They were huge and started near the back of the main entrance room. There were about fifteen steps before he reached a small landing, turned to the left, and darted up another flight of stairs. Once he was on the second floor, he began walking forward until he found the room that he was looking for.   
  
    He entered the room and scanned it for an empty desk to sit at. He spotted one near the back of the room and walked over to it. He sat down quietly, without gaining attention from any of the students who were already in the room, and pulled his text books out. The teacher came into the room a few minutes later, followed by the last couple of students who were in the class, and the bell rang.   
  
    Francis was grateful that Maths was his first class of the day. No attention was drawn to him other than the teacher briefly stating that there was a new student in the class, and telling them what his name was. Each student looked at Francis and nodded to him before returning to their own business. He was not required to speak at all during the class, and Maths wasn't really a difficult subject for him. It was the same in every language, aside from the names of the numbers, but those were easy to learn. Besides, the symbols didn't look any different.   
  
    After Maths class was over, Francis pulled his school map and instructions out of his backpack before putting his math textbook and notebook back into it. His next class was... Literature. Great. That was sure to be harder than Maths. He wished that Literature would be after lunch so that at least he could have a little more energy.   
  
    He gave a soft sigh as he placed his school map and instructions back into his backpack. He stood up from his desk and slung his backpack over his shoulders again. He was the last student to exit the classroom. He waited until most of the students had dispersed in the hallway before trying to get back downstairs to the room where his Literature class was being held.   
  
    It took him a bit longer to get to his Literature class because the classroom was more out of the way than the Maths classroom was. In fact, he was the last student to enter the classroom and had made it just as the bell rang. When he entered the room, the teacher and all of the students looked at him with soft smiles on their faces. Francis blushed softly, feeling embarrassed at all the attention he was drawing, but forced a friendly smile back at them.  
  
    "Ah, I'm so glad you made it in time, Mister Bonnefoy. It would have been a shame for you to be late to class on your first day, hm?" the teacher said in greeting to the French boy. Though the remark was meant as a harmless joke, it made Francis feel more insecure than he already was. In response, he just nodded faintly.  
  
    The teacher smiled a little more before turning his attention back to the other students. "Class, I'd like you to meet your new classmate," he said, then looked at Francis again. "Why don't you tell us your name, dear?"   
  
    "A-Ah..." Francis stuttered, trying to prepare himself for the amount of speaking he was going to have to do in this class. He focused his view on a book case in the back of the room, rather than on one or many of the students that were in front of him. He found it much less nerve-wracking to be talking to a book case instead of actual people.   
  
    " _J-Je m'appe-_ " He stopped himself. He was in England now, in an English school with English boys and English teachers. He had to speak English, not French. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm Francis. Francis Bonnefoy."   
  
    "Hi, Francis!" the class said in unison. The enthusiastic reaction he received from his classmate seemed to ease him up a bit. He gave the class a brief wave before looking at the teacher again.   
  
    "Alright, Francis, why don't you go take a seat next to Arthur over there and we'll get started," the teacher said, gesturing towards an empty desk next to a boy with short, messy blond hair and beautiful emerald green eyes. He also had the thickest eyebrows Francis had ever seen in his life, but overall he looked like a nice boy. Francis nodded and made his way quietly to his assigned seat. After he had sat down, the teacher began their lesson.  
  
    Of course, Francis had to have joined the semester that they were studying William Shakespeare. Not that he had anything against the classic playwright, except for the fact that he used the most complicated words in all of the English dictionary. Francis was beginning to feel anxious just  _thinking_  about the reading he would have to do. Of course, there was always the chance that he wouldn't be called on, but knowing his luck and the fact that he was the new student in the school, he didn't get his hopes up.   
  
    "...I'm going to pass these books around to you, and you are to take care of them for the semester. You will take them home with you and will keep them safe while they are in your possession. If anything happens to them, you will be responsible for buying the school a new copy..." the teacher's voice droned on as he began to walk around the classroom and pass out books to each of the students. The title of said book was _Hamlet_. That was the first play they would be reading that year.  
  
    The teacher returned to his desk and sat down. He instructed the students to open their books to Act I, Scene I, and then dealt out parts for a handful of students to read. Of course, Francis was part of the first group of students who was made to read. He wasn't given an easy part, either. Oh no, he couldn't have been given the part of Francisco, the character who had a name similar to his own and only had a few lines in that scene. No, he had to be given the part of Marcellus, who had a ridiculous amount of lines and words that would be a nightmare for him to speak. It may not have been as many lines as Bernardo or Horatio, but still...  
  
    Francis swallowed hard when he was given his part and began to read over the lines he would be forced to read. His anxiety grew ever thicker and his tongue felt heavy. He went over the words in his mind, trying to pronounce them there before saying them out loud. He was so sure that he was going to make a fool of himself. He was terrified.   
  
    When the time came for him to say his first line, "And liegemen to the Dane," he said it without much difficulty, other than having a quiet voice that may have been hard for the other students to hear. He breathed an inward sigh of relief, thankful that he hadn't screwed up yet. Unfortunately, his relief wouldn't last long.  
  
    While he had little to no trouble saying the shorter lines with less words in them, and his confidence in himself began to grow, when he reached the longer lines with more words, he found himself fumbling over the words and saying them wrong or saying different words entirely. He began to panic slightly, which caused him to fumble over the words even more. He glanced around the classroom and saw that other boys were staring at him. Some of them were smirking, or even snickering a little. Even Arthur looked like he was trying not to laugh. Francis was humiliated, but he had to finish the scene.  
  
    By the time it was over, Francis felt like crying. His entire body was shaking as he closed the book and laid it down on the desk. He propped his elbows up on the desk and covered the bottom part of his face with his hands so that no one could see his blushing cheeks or his quivering lip. his hair covered the rest of his face from view so that no one could see his eyes, which were watering despite his efforts to hold the tears back.   
  
    Fortunately, the teacher didn't call on Francis to speak again for the rest of the class. Whether or not it was because he saw how stressed out Francis was would remain a mystery, as he made no indication that he was aware of Francis' discomfort, and Francis was not going to ask him. The remainder of class time seemed to pass by agonizingly slowly. When the bell finally rang, he packed his things up and darted out of the room as fast as he could, even though it meant being swept up with the other students who were exiting other classrooms and filling up the hall.  
  
    Lunch was his next period; he knew that without having to look at his instructions. He wasn't quite sure how to get to the cafeteria, but he heard some of the boys who had been in his Literature class saying that they were headed that way, and he decided to follow them. Of course, he kept well behind them and acted like he knew his own way around.  
  
    Once he had made it to the cafeteria, which was on the opposite side of the first floor from his Literature classroom, he stood in the doorway and scanned the room for an empty table that he could sit at and eat by himself. He didn't particularly feel like socializing today, especially not after what had happened earlier. Unfortunately, it didn't look like any tables were empty. He didn't even want to sit at a table that only had one other person at it. Instead, he decided to sit on the floor in a corner at the back of the room.  
  
    He didn't have to buy lunch; his father always packed it for him. He'd never thought of it as childish or embarrassing, and neither had the children at his old school. Of course, is was probably because the majority of the children at his old school brought packed lunches, and besides, they had known Francis since they were in elementary school. They wouldn't have judged him for something like that. Unfortunately, it appeared that none of the other boys in this school had brought packed lunches with them, and they had only known Francis for less than a day.  
  
    Even though Francis was sitting pretty far away from most of the tables in the room, he could still see the other boys looking at him when he glanced upwards from the sandwich he had been packed that day. Some of them were smirking at him smugly. He tried to keep his eyes off of them, and not let them bother him, but that's when they started talking about him.  
  
    "Honestly, he's just like a child. Did you see the way he was crying in class earlier? And now he's got a packed lunch? What a baby," one of them sneered. His comment was followed by the snickering of the other boys at the table.  
  
    "Well what do you expect? He's French," another one of them stated in a rather disgusted tone while rolling his eyes.  
  
    After that, all of the boys at the table took it in turn to impersonate Francis' accent and repeat the lines he had been struggling to say in class earlier. Their laughter was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the cafeteria. Once again, Francis felt humiliated. Worst of all, he couldn't get away from it. He knew that if he started crying or that if he left the room, he'd only be made fun of even more. The only thing he could do was endure the verbal onslaught and try to look like he didn't notice anything they were saying.   
  
    "Oi! This is a Catholic school, you twats. Why don't you give the kid some bloody respect instead of teasing 'im, eh?" another boy piped up. Francis looked up from his food again to see who could possibly be defending him. He was surprised to see that it was the boy he had been sitting next to in Literature class.   
  
    The boy who had started the teasing rolled his eyes. "And what're you going to do if we don't, Kirkland? Run and tell the Dean?" he asked.  
  
    Arthur scoffed. "As if. You should know better than anyone that I know how to humiliate you in worse ways than you could imagine, Phillips. So sod off or I'll make sure you're the laughing stalk of the entire school for a month at least," he threatened.   
  
    The boy whom Arthur had called Phillips didn't have anything to say to that. Instead, he just grunted in annoyance and turned back to his friends. Francis could no longer hear what their chatter was about, but assuming by the fact that Arthur had a smug smirk on his face and was walking away, he assumed that they were no longer talking about him.  
  
    Francis looked back down at his sandwich and continued to eat it, until he was joined by the boy who had saved him from the bullying of Phillips and his friends. Arthur sat down on the floor, across from Francis, now carrying a tray with his lunch on it. When Francis looked at him, his eyes wide with surprise, Arthur offered him a faint smile.   
  
    "Sorry about all the trouble those lads were giving you. They're not the nicest bunch around. They tease me a lot, too, but I've learned how to stick up for myself," Arthur said. He was clearly trying to make conversation with Francis, but Francis wasn't sure what to say. He didn't really want to say anything after the humiliation he had brought upon himself earlier.  
  
    "Of course, I can teach you how to stand up to them, too. And in the meantime I'll make sure that they don't give you any trouble. Lads like us got to have each other's backs against lads like them right?" Arthur asked, continuing his essentially futile effort at getting Francis to speak to him. Francis only nodded in response.   
  
    "My name's Arthur, by the way. Arthur Kirkland. And you're... Francis, right?" Arthur inquired. Francis nodded again.  
  
    "Well, it's nice to meet you, mate," Arthur said, reaching his hand out to Francis. Francis took Arthur's hand gently, and Arthur shook Francis' hand.   
  
    The two ate together in silence after that. Francis had finished his meal long before Arthur did, but only because he had started earlier and had brought less food. After he finished eating his lunch, he just sort of sat in silence and watched Arthur continue to eat his. Noticing this, and wanting to make the situation less awkward, Arthur tried once again to start a conversation.  
  
    "Y'know, it's okay for you to talk to me. I know it's hard for you, but I promise I won't make fun of you, and you'll never get any better at English if you don't practice, you know?" he said. Unfortunately, this didn't seem to make any difference. If anything, Francis looked more uncomfortable now than he had a minute ago.   
  
    "I-I also know a bit of French! I-I'm still learning, nowhere near fluent in it, but I probably know enough to understand you at least a little..." Arthur exclaimed, trying to salvage their currently non-existent friendship.   
  
    Fortunately, this seemed to ease Francis up a little. "A-ah...?" he asked, still not feeling quite comfortable enough to speak to the British boy, but feeling that he deserved at least some form of verbal recognition.   
  
    Arthur smiled upon getting a reaction other than a simple nod out of Francis. "Yeah!" he exclaimed. "I-I could even try to talk to you in your native language if it would make you feel better! I'd probably embarrass myself though. I'm nowhere near as good at French as you are at English," he said. Francis blushed softly at the praise.   
  
    "In fact, you know- Ah... W-we could probably teach each other, you know," Arthur offered, and blushed when he saw Francis' attention turn to him entirely. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Y-you know, I could help you learn how to speak English better and- And in return you could, ah... Well, you could teach me how to speak French."  
  
    "I-I like that idea!" Francis exclaimed, speaking again for the first time since Literature class. Arthur grinned broadly. He was ecstatic that he had gotten Francis to speak.   
  
    "Do you really??" he asked hopefully. Francis nodded again; his eyes alight with the thought that he might have someone to help him, and that he'd be able to help them in return.  
  
    "Fantastic!" Arthur exclaimed. "Then, we should set up some time to meet each other outside of school this week. I live here during the school year so I'd have to get permission from the Dean to go out, and you'd have to get permission from your parents and from the Dean to come visit me... But we'll make it work somehow!"   
  
    That's when the bell rang, signifying that lunch was about to end. "Oh, we better hurry up here, ah... Looks like we won't have time to plan today," Arthur said, standing up from where he had previously been sitting while trying to finish what was left of his food hurriedly. "But listen, we'll sit together at lunch again tomorrow and figure something out, alright?" he asked, looking down at Francis. Once again, he nodded.  
  
    Arthur smiled again. "Well, we should both be getting out of here. I don't know if we have any more classes together today, but if we do, I'll see you then. If not, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow." Francis nodded one more time, and with that, Arthur dashed off to put his tray away and get out of the cafeteria.  
  
    It turned out that Francis and Arthur did share one more class together; History. Fortunately, Francis didn't have to do much talking in that class, and Arthur shot him glances that let him know that the Brit would help him out if he needed it. Francis was more grateful for that than he would ever be able to put into words, French or otherwise.   
  
    That was the last that Francis saw of Arthur that day, but certainly not the last time that he thought of Arthur. In fact, Francis couldn't get his mind off of the British boy for the whole rest of the day. Perhaps today hadn't really been so horrible after all.   
  
    Francis' mother was waiting outside the school in her blue convertible when Francis had finally gotten outside after getting out of his final class and getting his remaining things out of his locker. He smiled upon seeing his mother and ran over to the car. He opened the door quickly and jumped in, tossing his backpack into the seat next to him and buckling his seatbelt. He then shut the door to the car, and his mother began driving away.  
  
    "You look happy,  _bébé._  I take it your first day at school was a good one?" his mother asked, smiling at him through the mirror that was hanging above the dashboard.   
  
    "More or less," Francis replied, smiling back at his mother. "I think I made a new friend today," he said.  
  
    "Oh?" his mother asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.  
  
    Francis nodded. " _Oui!_  His name is Ar...- Arthu...-  _Arthur...!_ " he exclaimed, fumbling over the boy's name a little. It was a bit hard for him pronounce. He smiled again when he remembered that Arthur was going to help him try to fix that.  
  
    "Mama, he's going to teach me how to be better at English!"


	2. The Nickname

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis and Arthur meet up again to discuss when to get together to tutor each other. When Arthur realizes that Francis has trouble saying his name, he suggests that Francis give him a nickname.

    Francis' second day of school was considerably easier than his first day had been, at least as far as navigation went. When his mother pulled the car up to the curb, Francis wasted no time in opening the door and getting out of the car. He blew a kiss to his mother and waved to her for a moment before quickly running into the school, not wasting time to stand in front of the fortress and stare at it in awe as he had yesterday. His mother was surprised at Francis' eagerness, since he had been so nervous the day before, but she was glad that he seemed to feel at home here and was adjusting to his new life rather quickly. 

    In all honesty, Francis wasn't the slightest bit less nervous than he had been yesterday. In fact, he was probably even more nervous, what with the fiasco that had happened in Literature class. However, he was eager to see Arthur again, and the daydreams of spending time with his new friend overpowered the negative thoughts he was having about his other classmates. As long as Arthur was around to stick up for him, Francis was sure that he'd be fine. 

    Fortunately, Francis had a good memory, and he didn't need to pull his school map or his schedule out again to know where the lockers were and that his first class was Maths. He did have to pull out his schedule again to find his locker combination, since he couldn't remember the last two digits, but it didn't take him long to get his lunch bag and some of his books into the locker so that he had a lighter load to carry. After his locker was closed and locked again, he shouldered his backpack and ran off to his Maths classroom.

    Though Maths was easy for Francis, it wasn't particularly enjoyable. It seemed to pass by so slowly, and Francis couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, he was dreading going back to Literature class again. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle any more humiliation, and he was sure that the other boys weren't going to let him live the events of yesterday down for at least a month. On the other hand, though, he did really want to see Arthur. 

    When Maths was over, Francis once again waited for everyone else to clear the room before he tried to make his exit. He was really dreading Literature, but he knew he had no choice but to attend it. Even so, he made his way very slowly to the classroom. His feet felt like lead. They didn't want to carry him to that dreaded room with that dreaded play and those dreaded boys. 

    Fortunately, when he finally entered the classroom today, he wasn't the last one there. The teacher made no comments about how it would have been a shame if he were late. There was no need for an introduction on his part or anyone else's. The teacher merely smiled and nodded subtly at him in greeting and watched as he took his seat in the desk next to Arthur's again. 

    When Arthur saw Francis, he didn't say a word, but looked at the boy and smiled warmly at him. Francis, elated that he had received such a friendly and enthusiastic greeting from his new friend, smiled back immediately. Somehow, knowing that he and Arthur really were close with one another made Francis ease up slightly. Maybe this class wouldn't be quite so bad after all.

    Unfortunately, Francis had been pretty wrong about that. The teacher seemed to think that it would be a good idea to make Francis read again, though God only knew why. Once all of the other boys were in the classroom and had pulled out their books, the teacher began assigning parts to them again, and Francis was called upon. Immediately, his stomach dropped. 

    Once again, he was not given a small part. In fact, for this scene, he was given the lead role. The teacher had asked him to play Hamlet. Internally, Francis began to have a panic attack as his eyes scanned through the lines that he would have to read. They were so long and complicated to him. How was he ever going to do this without messing up, and without being laughed at and made fun of even more than yesterday? 

    Arthur was given a large part as well, that of King Claudius. Arthur didn't have a problem with the part that he had been given. He loved reading, even reading aloud, and English was his native language, after all. He didn't have any trouble with the words. He wouldn't fumble over them like Francis would. But Arthur could tell that Francis was nervous and uncomfortable, to say the least. He was worried for Francis.

    Noticing how continuously pale Francis' face was growing, Arthur pursed his lips and raised his hand quickly to get the teacher's attention. When the teacher saw Arthur's hand, he nodded at the boy to let him know that he had been acknowledged. "Yes, Mr. Kirkland?" he inquired.

    "Ah, sir, I know it may not be my place to speak, but would you please take a look at Francis? The poor boy is so nervous he's going pale. Couldn't he switch parts with someone, take a smaller one?" Arthur asked. 

    Francis looked at Arthur with his eyes slightly widened. On one hand, he was extremely happy that Arthur cared enough about him to notice when he was nervous and to try and make him feel more comfortable. However, he was also embarrassed that Arthur had called him out like that. Now, even if he did get a smaller part from the teacher, he was sure that the other boys would find some way to make fun of him for this. 

    "Ah, I appreciate your concern for your fellow classmate, my boy, and I'm sure Mr. Bonnefoy does too. However, I think it would be good for him to have this bigger part. It will help him learn how to speak more clearly. He'll learn better this way," the teacher said, looking at Arthur. 

    He then shifted his gaze to Francis, whose visage looked almost depressed at the older man's answer. "You can take as long as you need to read the lines, Francis. There's no need to rush. If you can't read a word, just look at me or Arthur and we'll give it to you, alright?" he assured.

    Francis said nothing. He simply nodded slowly and looked down at his book. He had to bite his lip to keep it from quivering. He covered the sides of his face with his hair to hide himself from the rest of the room. 

    "Alright, if there are no more questions, let us begin our reading for the day," the teacher said. He then looked at Arthur, who had the first line in the scene, to start them off. 

    Arthur cleared his throat and read his line aloud, enunciating each word loudly and clearly, and occasionally glancing at Francis. The French boy didn't seem to be paying much attention to Arthur. He was too busy reading his own lines silently and preparing to say them aloud. 

    Fortunately, the first couple of lines that Francis had were small, only one sentence each. They weren't particularly hard for him to say. It felt like a good warm up to him. Furthermore, he didn't feel quite as pressured to recite his lines quickly, unlike the day before. The teacher had said that he could go slowly. Take his time. That was exactly what he planned on doing. 

    Despite taking his lines more slowly this time, the words in his lines were still quite hard for him to say. There were quite a few times when he decided to look to Arthur pleadingly, silently begging through his eyes for Arthur to say the word for him so that he wouldn't have to. He wasn't quite sure if it was more or less embarrassing to have Arthur saying the harder words for him than it was for him to fumble over them as he tried to say them for himself. 

    Either way, Francis was grateful that he didn't feel as humiliated today as he had yesterday. For one thing, Arthur wasn't laughing at him, unlike yesterday. For another, being able to say the words slowly and ask for help when he needed it made it so that he didn't fumble over the words quite as often, which also gave his classmates less reason to tease him. He barely heard any snickering or any other mocking noises made at him that day. The time that he was being forced to read seemed to go by much quicker today than it had yesterday, and by the end of it, he didn't feel like crying. He just felt relieved. 

    When Literature class was over, and Arthur noticed that Francis was staying behind while the others left, Arthur decided to stay behind, too, but mainly to ask Francis what he was doing. "Aren't you going to come eat lunch with the rest of us, Francis?" he inquired.

    Francis nodded quickly. " _Oui, bien sûr!_ " he replied.

    "Well, then what are you waiting for?" Arthur asked, standing up from his seat and offering his hand to Francis. 

    "I don't want to walk in the crowd..." Francis said, refusing to take Arthur's hand just yet.

    "Oh, I see... You're waiting until everyone else leaves so you can get out more easily?" Arthur asked.

    Francis only nodded in response.

    Arthur smiled softly. "You really are a shy one, aren't you?" he asked, chuckling a little.

    Francis shrugged faintly. "Only around strange things."

    "Then, were you really friendly and open when you lived in France?" Arthur asked.

    Francis nodded again. 

    "Well, I hope that I can help you become friendly and open here, too. I'd love to see that side of you, Francis," Arthur told him.

    "You would...?" Francis asked softly.

    "Of course I would!" Arthur answered. "I'm sure everyone would. I know you got off to a rough start yesterday, but it's just because those boys who were picking on you are utter asshats. Trust me, not all the boys in this school are like that. The majority of us are quite respectable, and quite a few of us would be interested in learning about you and where you come from."

    "If you say so..." Francis said, not entirely convinced of Arthur's assurances.

    "Look... Everyone's out of the room now and they're probably on their way to the cafeteria. Why don't you walk with me? We can stay behind the crowd, alright?" Arthur asked, offering his hand to Francis once again. 

    Francis nodded again, and this time, he did take Arthur's hand. Arthur's smile broadened and he pulled Francis up from the desk. Francis grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder before lacing his fingers with Arthur's gently. The gesture made Arthur blush, which in turn made Francis worry that he had done something wrong. He pulled his hand away from Arthur's quickly.

    " _J-je suis désolé!_ " he squeaked. 

    "I-I, no, it's fine, don't worry about it," Arthur said, taking Francis' hand and lacing their fingers together again. "There's no harm in it. I just wasn't expecting it. But it makes you feel more at ease, doesn't it?" he asked, looking at the French boy's face. 

    Francis nodded again, squeezing Arthur's hand a little tightly. Arthur smiled and chuckled softly. "Look, if it makes you feel better, then I'll do it. Anything to make you feel more comfortable here, alright?" he promised. 

    Francis nodded one more time. Satisfied, Arthur began leading Francis out of the classroom and towards the cafeteria. However, Francis made sure to mention that they needed to take a detour on their route so that he could get his lunch out of his locker.

    "A-Arthu...- Arth... A-Arthur...! U-um, can we go back to the lockers before we go to the cafeteria? I left my lunch there," he said, once again fumbling over his friend's name. 

    "Oh, of course we can, Francis," Arthur said, changing their direction slightly so that they could get to the lockers. 

    Once there, Francis opened his locker hurriedly and grabbed his bag of lunch out of it. He shut and locked his locker again before running back to Arthur and taking his hand again. The two of them then continued their journey to the cafeteria together.

    Arthur made sure that Francis didn't have to sit by himself on the floor today, unlike yesterday. Fortunately, they had gotten to the cafeteria just in time to claim the last empty table and sit there together. Francis sat down and started unpacking his lunch immediately, but Arthur didn't sit down just yet.

    "Alright, you stay here and hold the table. I've got to go get my lunch, but I'll be back pretty quickly, alright?" he said.

    Francis nodded and looked at Arthur, having finished taking all of his lunch out of the bag. Arthur smiled faintly before dashing off towards where lunch was being served. Francis was content with the thought that Arthur would be back soon and that the beginning of lunch wouldn't be horrible for him like it had been yesterday. Unfortunately, he was wrong about that once again.

    Only a few seconds after Arthur had left, a few of the boys from yesterday came over to Francis' table and sat down at it. Francis was shocked and little frightened, and didn't quite know how to stop them from sitting down, so he did nothing about it. He stared down at his food and pretended that he didn't notice the boys who were sitting opposite of him. 

    "Trying to open up a little more today, are we, Francis?" the boy who Francis had remembered Arthur calling Philips asked him, though the other boy's tone was less than friendly. Francis refused to acknowledge him.

    "You certainly are brave, trying to claim an entire table for yourself. But my mates and I don't have any other place to sit. I hope you don't mind us interrupting your 'statement' or whatever," Phillips pressed. A second later, two more boys came over to the table and sat on either side of Francis, essentially trapping him between them. Still, Francis paid no mind to them.

    When Phillips still had no reaction from the French boy, his cronies began picking up different parts of Francis' lunch and examining them. It was nothing special. A bottle of apple juice, some mini-quiches, and a small slice of cake. Francis couldn't figure out for the life of him why the other boys would be so interested in it.

    "So, your mum packs these for you, is that right?" one of them asked. 

    "How sweet. She still treats you like her little baby boy, doesn't she? Do you still have to take naps, Francis? Have to be in bed by 7:30? I'm sure you can't have any dessert until you eat all your vegetables." 

    Once again, Francis endured the verbal onslaught until Arthur was able to come to his rescue. Partly because he didn't want these boys to have the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him, but mostly because he didn't really know how to fight for himself. He couldn't think of any good comebacks for their teasing, and he was sure that he'd screw them up and be laughed at again even if he could come up with something clever. 

    "Hey! Couldn't you gits see that this table was taken? Go find somewhere else to sit," Arthur snarled at them, shoving his way between Francis and one of the boys who was sitting next to the French boy. He dropped his lunch trey onto the table and glared at Phillips and his friends. 

    "Oh, I'm sorry, Kirkland. I didn't realize that you were King of the Cafeteria. Better bow down to him, boys, or he might set those caterpillars loose on us," Phillips scoffed, and the other boys laughed. 

    Arthur smirked. "At least I've actually  _got_  eyebrows, Phillips. Yours looked like they've been singed off. Were you the one who caused that mysterious explosion in the chem lab last year? Is that why your face looks so disastrous?" he inquired.

    Phillips looked visibly offended by this comment. Arthur was satisfied in knowing that Phillips probably had no comeback for the burn he had been given. "Oh sod off, Kirkland. At least I've a girlfriend. You'll never get a girl with those bugs crawling on your face," the other boy hissed.

    Arthur rolled his eyes. "Your girlfriend's only with you out of pity. Trust me, ladies are more scared of terrifying beasts than they are of tiny caterpillars," he said.

    Phillips growled in the back of his throat and stood up from the table. "Come on, boys. He isn't worth the trouble. He's enough of an embarrassment to himself without us having to do it for him," he grumbled. The other boys stood up as well, and the group walked away from the table, leaving Francis and Arthur in peace once again. 

    Arthur chuckled softly. "No matter how many times he tries, Phillips will never get the better of me in a banter-battle. Poor boy isn't nearly clever enough for it. He should stay away from us for a while," he said, turning his attention from the group and looking at Francis, who looked back at him in return.

    " _Merci,_  for getting them away from me, Ath...- Artu..-  _Arthur,_ " Francis thanked, frustrated with himself for being still unable to say his friend's name properly.

    Arthur noticed this as well, and pursed his lips slightly. "Of course, Francis. Anything for you. But Francis, you seem to have a lot of trouble saying my name, don't you?" he asked softly. 

    He hadn't meant to make Francis feel bad, but Francis was embarrassed about it, and looked away. " _Oui..._ " he muttered quietly.

    "Oh, Francis, that's alright. It's okay. I don't mind. It's not your fault. Maybe you could just think up a nickname for me instead, hm?" Arthur suggested. 

    "Nickname...?" Francis asked, beginning to unwrap the quiches that his father had packed for him. 

    "Yeah. You know, you can just call me something that's easier for you to say. Anything you want. Hell, I wouldn't even care if it was a girl's name," Arthur said, chuckling softly. 

    "Hm..." Francis muttered, furrowing his brows and pursing his lips as he tried to think of something that he could call Arthur that would be easier for him to say. He didn't just want to give Arthur some random name that didn't hold any meaning. It wouldn't seem right to him. But he had only known Arthur for two days. How could he think of something that held meaning when they had only known each other for such a short time. Didn't nicknames just come to people randomly, anyways?

     _ **Papillon.**_

    The name had come to him so suddenly, but it made so much sense. Phillips had been making fun of Arthur's eyebrows, calling them  _caterpillars._  Caterpillars were those tiny bugs that turned into butterflies, right? Francis had always loved butterflies, and he loved Arthur, too. The French word for butterfly is  _papillon._  It was the perfect nickname for Arthur.

    Francis smiled broadly and turned to Arthur, shouting the name at him excitedly. " _Papillon!_ "

    " _Papillon...?_ " Arthur repeated, looking back at Francis.

    "That's your nickname!  _Papillon!_ " Francis exclaimed.

    Arthur smiled and chuckled softly. "Well, if you like that name, then so do I," he said, though he wasn't exactly sure what the word meant. He was sure that he had heard it before, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember the meaning. It didn't matter much, though. It wasn't important. As long as Francis was more comfortable saying it, that was all that mattered. 

    Satisfied with his choice, and the fact that Arthur approved of it, Francis smiled triumphantly and began eating his lunch. Arthur began eating, as well. When both of them were about halfway finished, Arthur suddenly remembered what he and Francis had planned on talking about together today.

    "So, Francis, when do you think we should get together so that we can tutor each other? Like we talked about yesterday?" he asked, looking at Francis again.

    "Oh... Um... Well, Mama said she wanted to meet you, so I should invite you to our home for dinner. She said you could come over whenever was best for you," Francis replied, smiling softly.

    "Oh? Well, that certainly makes things a lot easier, then! I'm sure that I could talk to the dean about letting me come to see you this weekend. Say, Saturday? The dean might have to call your mother and ask her to pick me up and make sure I get back safely, or something like that. But I'd love that," Arthur said. 

    "Okay! I'll tell Mama when she picks me up today!" Francis exclaimed.

    "Perfect," Arthur said, and the boys resumed eating their lunch. 

    By the time they had finished eating and had begun to clean up their table, the bell rang, signifying that Lunch was now over. Francis and Arthur continued to walk to their History class together, but unfortunately, that was the last that either of them got to see of each other that day. After History class, they bade each other farewell and parted ways to go on to their other classes.

    After school, Francis ran outside to wait for his mother, who pulled up to the curb shortly after Francis got outside. Francis smiled and waved to his mother before getting into the car. Once he had shut the passenger door and buckled his seat belt, his mother began driving again. 

    "Was school good again today,  _bébé?_ " she asked him, looking in the mirror above her dashboard again and smiling at him. 

    " _Oui, c'était fantastique,_  Mama! I made a nickname for my friend so that I don't have to mess up his name, and he said that he wanted to come to dinner on Saturday," Francis answered.

    "Oh? That's wonderful,  _chéri._  I'm so excited to meet him. And what's this nickname that you came up with for him?" she inquired.

    " _Papillon,_ " Francis answered, smiling.

    "Oh, you're calling him  _Papillon?_   Why's that?" she asked him.

    "There were some boys teasing him about his eyebrows. They're very big! The boys called his eyebrows caterpillars. But I think he is like a butterfly. So I call him  _Papillon,_ " Francis explained.

    His mother laughed softly. "You're so creative,  _mon chou._  I can't wait to meet your  _Papillon._ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oi this chapter is so late and I'm so sorry about that. I've gotten on a much better schedule with my writing though and I've got fanfic chapters coming out of my ears honestly. I should be able to update this fic every week, or every other week at the most.
> 
> This story is a bit slow in the beginning, honestly. I'm not quite sure how long the story will be by the time it's finished, but I do want to give it a decent length. Unfortunately, high-school based stories are a little more slow than fantasy stories and the like just bc they're slice-of-life and life moves pretty slowly during the school years y'know. But I promise things will pick up in excitement soon.
> 
> There's also a bit of foreshadowing in this chapter, thought I don't expect anyone to realize what it is. You can go ahead and take some guesses if you'd like, though ;)


	3. You Are Wonderful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finally gets to come over to Francis' house, and makes a shocking discovery once he's there. Much to Francis' surprise, Arthur seems to be very excited about the discovery and embraces it firmly.

    With a date officially set for Arthur and Francis to get together to teach each other how to speak their languages better, the rest of the week seemed to drag by much slower than either of them had expected. Both of them tried to will the hours and the days by faster and faster so that Saturday would come already and they could spend some time together, stress-free and outside of school, but their anxiety for the weekend to come didn't speed up the time like they thought it would have. It wasn't all bad, though. At least they still had a few hours together every day at school.  
  
    On Wednesday, they had finally decided to exchange other means of contact with each other. Phone numbers and email addresses were exchanged, as well as Francis' home address. Throughout the rest of the week, they had quickly fallen into the habit of texting each other whenever they could, including first thing when they woke up in the morning and last thing before they went to sleep at night.   
  
    Arthur arranged his leave with the dean as soon as school had ended on Tuesday. Originally, Francis' mother was going to have to come and take Arthur from the school and return him back safely, but it turned out that one of Arthur's classmates was going home for the weekend to celebrate his sister's 18th birthday. Since the other boy's mother was already coming to pick him up, she offered to pick Arthur up and take him to Francis' house, as well. The only thing Francis' mother would have to do would be dropping Arthur off later that night.   
  
    Once everything was officially set in stone, all the boys could do was bide their time until Saturday came. It seemed like it had been weeks rather than days, but eventually, Friday rolled around, and when Arthur and Francis had gone to bed that night, both of them had a hard time falling asleep with the excitement that the thought of tomorrow brought for them.  
  
    Arthur hardly slept that night, and woke up early the next morning. Even though he wouldn't be to Francis' house until around three or four o'clock that afternoon, he was far too excited to sleep, or to think about anything else. His night was spent tossing and turning as he imagined what Francis' house would look like and what his family would be like and what they would think of him. The morning was spent deciding what to wear to make the best impression and how he would introduce himself and what he would start teaching Francis first.  
  
    Francis, on the other hand, slept well despite his excitement. Rather than tossing and turning all night, he was able to drift off peacefully after a while and had dreams of the next day instead. Francis wasn't really a morning person at all, so he slept in until about 10:30 that morning, at which point his mother decided that it was time for him to get up.  
  
    When she came into his room, his covers were pulled over his head, as usual. Sunlight was streaming into the room through the window on the wall in front of his bed that they didn't have curtains for yet. If it weren't for the covers over Francis' head, the sunlight would have been right in his face, which was why he had pulled the covers over his head in the first place.   
  
    She walked over to the bed quietly and pulled the covers down, removing them not only from Francis' head but from his whole body. The boy shivered and groaned, discomforted with the sudden sunlight in his face as well as the warmth that had been stolen from him. He felt like he had been hit with frigid winds but simultaneously that he was staring directly into the sun without sunglasses. Both were very unpleasant feelings, to say the least.  
  
    "Wake up, sleepy head. We've got to clean up the house before your  _Papillon_  gets here," his mother said, chuckling softly.   
  
    The mention of Arthur's nickname caused Francis' eyes to shoot open. The discomfort he was feeling before seemed to melt away rather quickly as excitement filled his body with warmth again and his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. He yawned softly and pushed himself into a sitting position on his bed before smiling faintly at his mother and nodding.  
  
    "Okay. I'm up. Let me just get dressed and I'll help clean up," he said.  
  
    "Alright. But eat some breakfast first. I'm almost finished making it. It'll be ready by the time you've gotten dressed," his mother said.   
  
    Francis's smile broadened. "What are we having, Mama?" he asked.   
  
    "Omelettes. Papa wanted them," she told him.  
  
    " _Délicieuse!_ " Francis exclaimed.  
  
    His mother laughed and kissed his forehead before walking away from the bed and leaving his room, shutting the door behind her. Immediately, Francis jumped out of bed and ran to his closet. He had unpacked and put away most of his clothes by now, either by hanging them up or folding them and putting them into the dresser that was inside of his closet. He went through his clothes for a few minutes before finally deciding on a long-sleeved, pastel pink blouse with a baby blue rose pattern decorating it, and ruffly black skirt that went down to his knees.   
  
    To most people, it would seem odd for Francis to be wearing clothes like that. They were meant for girls, and society looked down on boys for wearing anything that looked feminine, or acting feminine in any other way. Fortunately, Francis' parents were loving to him no matter what, and didn't care that he preferred wearing skirts and dresses to pants and suits. They let him wear whatever he wanted and they never said a word about it.   
  
    The only downside was that he couldn't wear these outfits to school. He had a uniform that he had to wear for school, and it was a traditional boy's uniform. That meant uncomfortable, boring beige pants and a tight blue blazer, rather than the skirt and the slightly looser blazer that girls get to wear at their schools. Francis really hated his uniform, but he'd put up with it for the sake of his parents. They were paying a lot of money for him to go to this school, and he was grateful for that. The least he could do was put up with the clothes without complaint.   
  
    Francis took his clothes into the bathroom, since he couldn't get dressed in his own room for fear that someone might look in on him through the window that wasn't covered. He closed and locked the bathroom door and stripped himself of his pajamas. He folded them neatly and set them on the counter before picking his clothes up and dressing himself in them. After he had finished getting dressed, he ran a brush through his hair, grabbed his pajamas off of the bathroom counter, and left the bathroom.   
  
    He tossed his pajamas onto his unmade bed and left his room. There was a spring in his step as he walked, almost skipping through the hall and out into the living room, which was separated from the kitchen by a thin wall with an empty door frame in the center. A door had never been built there, but the family didn't think it was necessary to build one, so they weren't planning on it.   
  
    Francis walked into the kitchen, which was directly connected to the dining room without the separation of a wall or anything. He smiled at his mother, who was pouring glasses of milk for herself, Francis, and Francis' father. After his mother smiled back at him, Francis walked to the dining room table and sat in the chair across from his father.   
  
     _"Bonjour, Papa!"_  Francis greeted, smiling at his father.   
  
    Francis' father looked away from the newspaper that he had been reading and smiled back at his son lovingly. " _Bonjour,_  Francis. Did you sleep well?" he inquired.  
  
    Francis nodded eagerly. " _Oui,_  I did!" he answered.  
  
    "I'm glad," his father said, and neatly folded up the newspaper that he had been reading, setting it down on the table as Francis' mother began bringing the plates and glasses over to the table and setting them down in front of her son and her husband.   
  
    Once she had brought her own food over to the table and had sat down in one of the other two empty seats at the table, the family began to eat their breakfast. It didn't take them long to finish it all, and soon, the three of them began bustling about the kitchen, helping each other clean everything up and getting the room sparkling. After they had finished cleaning the kitchen, they began to move on to other parts of the house.   
  
    Francis began cleaning his room before anything else. It wasn't that big of a mess, since he was a rather neat person, but he did have to make his bed and make sure that all of his sketchbooks and other notebooks were put away neatly. After that, he made sure his bathroom was clean and guest-ready. Once he was satisfied with the way his room looked, and confident that Arthur would feel comfortable in it, he went to go find his parents to see if they needed any help cleaning anything else.   
  
    The house wasn't really a mess, seeing as how there were only three people living in it, but it was still quite cluttered. This was mostly due to the fact that they hadn't unpacked all of the boxes yet. They had only been living here for two weeks, and all of them had been busy since the move. Francis' father was working almost all day every day, and even during the first week that they had lived here, when Francis didn't have school, most of his time was spent helping his mother shopping for food and other necessities, as well as putting together and moving furniture around. Francis' mother couldn't do heavy lifting by herself. No one had had time to unpack much yet.   
  
    The majority of cleaning time was spent pushing boxes into corners, making the house seem neat and somewhat presentable by moving the furniture and knickknacks that they had already unpacked around, and making sure there wasn't any dust anywhere. The cleaning didn't take too long, even though they weren't really hurrying. When they had finished, Francis sat on the couch in the living room to watch some TV until Arthur arrived.   
  
    It was about 3:30 PM when Francis heard the doorbell ring. "Is that  _Papillon?_ " Francis' mother asked from within the kitchen, where she currently resided.   
  
    "I'll get it!" Francis exclaimed, turning the TV off and jumping up from the couch, running to the front door.   
  
    He quickly unlocked it and grabbed the doorknob to twist it and pull the door open. He didn't bother to look through the peephole in the door or any of the windows in the house to see if it was really Arthur standing on the other side. Luckily, Francis was spared the awkwardness of meeting with a stranger. Arthur was indeed the person on the other side of the door.  
  
    " _Papillon!_  You're here! I'm so happy!" Francis exclaimed, smiling at his friend and holding his arms out, indicating that he wanted a hug from the other.  
  
    However, Arthur made no indication of wanting to give Francis that hug. He was entirely too focused on Francis' clothes. Francis could see that Arthur's eyes had widened in shock as soon as he had gotten a good look at what exactly Francis was wearing.   
  
    Francis' face fell. He could feel a small pit beginning to form in his stomach. Did Arthur not like what he was wearing? Did Arthur think it was strange? Would Arthur make fun of him for it? Would this ruin their friendship?  
  
    "What's the matter,  _Papillon...?_ " Francis asked softly, tilting his head a little.  
  
    This seemed to snap Arthur out of his daze. "H-huh? What? Oh, nothing's wrong, Francis, really. I-I just didn't expect someone like you to be so comfortable dressing in drag, that's all. But it's not a bad thing. I-I think you look great!" Arthur exclaimed, and laughed awkwardly.   
  
    "Dressing in drag...?" Francis asked, confused. He wasn't familiar with the term. He'd never heard it before.  
  
    "O-oh, it's like, when a boy wears clothes that were meant to be worn by girls, or vice versa," Arthur explained to him.  
  
    "Oh? Is that all?" Francis asked, smiling a little. "Well, I wouldn't say that I am dressing in drag, then. I'm not really a boy, despite how my body was made, you know?" he said nonchalantly.  
  
    Arthur choked on air. Now this was definitely a surprise. Francis flinched a little when he saw Arthur's reaction. Maybe he shouldn't have let that slip...  
  
    "I-I... Y-you're not a boy!?" Arthur asked incredulously.   
  
    Francis averted his eyes, blushing bashfully. "Well...  _Non,_  not really. I'm not really anything, you know? Not a boy or a girl. I don't really care what people call me, though. Some people call me a boy and some people call me a girl. I don't mind it. But I do prefer wearing 'girl' clothes, to be honest," he answered.  
  
    "I... You're agender...?" Arthur asked.   
  
    "I-if that's what you call it, then yes..." Francis replied.  
  
    Arthur smiled and laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. He still seemed anxious. "I can't believe this..." he whispered.  
  
    Francis' eyes began to water. "Oh, y-you don't like me anymore, do you? Y-you think I'm weird now, don't you...!?" he asked, almost accusingly.   
  
    Arthur's eyes widened again and he quickly pulled Francis into a hug. "N-no, no! Francis, this is wonderful! I-  _You're_  wonderful!" he exclaimed.  
  
    Francis squeaked in surprise at the sudden hug, but quickly hugged him back. "I-I... I am...?" he asked softly.  
  
    Arthur pulled away from him, but kept a tight grip on his shoulders, and looked him straight in the eyes. "Yes! Yes, you are, Francis! You are so, so wonderful..." he whispered.  
  
    Francis grinned softly, no longer feeling the want or need to cry. He laughed softly. "Well if you're okay with it, then it's not  _that_  big of a deal. I'm not  _that_  special,  _Papillon,_ " he said.  
  
    Arthur blushed faintly and let go of Francis, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. "I-I... R-right, sorry about that. I just got carried away, that's all," he said.  
  
    Francis shrugged. "That's alright! Come inside! I want you to meet Mama and Papa!" he exclaimed, grabbing Arthur's hand and pulling him into the house.   
  
    He shut the door behind both of them, and, still holding Arthur's hand, led the other boy into the kitchen to meet his mother. "Mama! _Papillon_  is here, see!" he exclaimed.   
  
    Francis' mother looked up from the book she had been reading and removed her reading glasses in order to look at Arthur. She smiled warmly at him before setting her glasses down on the table, placing her bookmark inside of her book, closing it, and standing up. She walked over to Arthur and kissed him on both of his cheeks in greeting, making Arthur blush softly.   
  
    "It's so nice to finally meet you,  _Papillon!_  Francis has told me so much about you," she told him.  
  
    Arthur smiled faintly at her and cleared his throat. "It's nice to meet you, too, Madame Bonnefoy. I've also heard a great deal about you," he said.  
  
    "Papa's at work just now, but he'll be back in time for dinner, and you can meet him then," Francis said. Arthur nodded faintly.  
  
    "Are either of you boys hungry? Arthur, have you had lunch already? I can bring you two something to eat while you're studying if you'd like," Francis' mother offered.   
  
    "I think I'm alright for now, Madame Bonnefoy. I had lunch just about an hour ago," Arthur replied.  
  
    Francis smiled at his mother. " _Oui,_  I'm okay too, Mama! We'll let you know if we get hungry," he said.  
  
    "Alright, well then, of you go, you two! I'm sure that you both have a lot of studying to do," Francis' mother said.   
  
    "Right!" Francis agreed, grabbing Arthur's hand again and leading him to Francis' bedroom.   
  
    Once they were inside, Francis pushed the door shut, but not all the way. He left it open just a crack. He then sat down on his bed and patted the spot next to him, signalling for Arthur to come and sit down next to him. Arthur looked around the room a little as he walked over to the bed and sat down on it. The room was pretty empty, but it was homely, and Arthur felt comfortable in it.   
  
    "So, do you want to start with French first, or English first?" Francis asked him once he was sitting.  
  
    "Well," Arthur began, removing his backpack from his shoulders and setting it down between the two of them, "since our primary focus is teaching you how to speak English better, I think we should start with that."  
  
    Francis nodded, smiling eagerly. He re-positioned himself on the bed so that he was sitting Indian-style and facing Arthur. Arthur did the same, facing Francis. He unzipped his backpack and pulled a notebook, pencils, a binder, and a few English to French dictionaries and English grammar books out of it. He laid them all out neatly on the bed.  
  
    "U-um..." Arthur stuttered, clearing his throat, "so, uh, I'm not one hundred percent sure what the best way to go about this is. I've never taught somebody how to speak English before. I mean, it won't be that hard since you're pretty much already fluent in it, but yeah... I sort of just brought materials that I thought would help us and a general idea of what to do... I hope that's alright," he said.  
  
    Francis smiled broadly at him. "I'm sure you'll do wonderfully,  _Papillon!_ " he assured.  
  
    Arthur smiled back. "Thanks, Francis. Well, um, let's see here..."   
  
    Arthur and Francis spent just over an hour practicing English. Francis told Arthur, or in some cases, wrote down, the words that he had the hardest time saying. Arthur made a list of them in the notebook, and once he had all the words that Francis could think of, he began saying them for Francis, enunciating them so that Francis could hear clearly how they were pronounced. He broke each word up into a few separate parts and had Francis say those parts individually before saying the whole word together. It was like teaching a child how to read aloud.   
  
    When Francis' tongue got tired of saying the words, he figured that it was time to put Arthur through the same pain. Arthur packed up his supplies, and Francis retrieved his own. He had gone on the internet and looked at several websites in order to compile his own lesson to teach Arthur. Like any good teacher, Francis decided to start at the beginning, and to him, the beginning was the alphabet. He taught Arthur the names and sounds of the letters in French, including what they would sound like with each different accent mark. They worked on this together until Francis' mother called them for dinner.  
  
    "Francis!  _Papillon!_  Dinner's ready! And Papa's home!"   
  
    Arthur and Francis both looked up from what they had been doing and looked towards the bedroom door. Quickly, they packed all of their things away and got off of the bed. Francis ran to the door, opened it the rest of the way, and darted into the hall. Arthur followed closely behind him. The two of them walked to the kitchen and entered it together.  
  
    Upon their entrance, Francis and Arthur were immediately overwhelmed with the smells and the sight of the warm and delicious dinner that had just been prepared. Francis' mother had made onion soup inside of bread bowls, as well as a fancy salad with many different kinds of dressings. There was water to drink. Both Francis and Arthur could smell something else cooking in the oven. It smelled like cake.   
  
    Francis' mother was just finishing setting the table. His father was already sitting down. When Francis saw his father, he smiled and immediately took Arthur over to see the man.   
  
    "Papa, Papa, this is my friend, the one from school that I told you about!  _Papillon!_ " Francis exclaimed.   
  
    Francis' father smiled warmly at Arthur before extending his hand for Arthur to shake. Arthur smiled back at him and quickly took his hand, shaking it firmly. "It's very nice to meet you, Monsieur Bonnefoy," he said politely.  
  
    "Likewise, Mr. Kirkland," Francis' father said, chuckling softly.   
  
    When Arthur let go of Francis' father's hand, he and Francis both sat down across from each other at the table. When Francis' mother was done getting things ready, she sat at the seat across from her husband. Once Francis' mother was seated, the family and Arthur began to eat.   
  
    The dinner was quiet. Everyone was more focused on their food than they were on each other, but that didn't make anything awkward. Arthur felt comfortable with Francis' family, and they were comfortable with him. It was just that none of them really had anything to say to each other.  
  
    By the time everyone was finished eating dinner, the cake was done baking. Francis' mother got up to take it out of the oven, and Francis began clearing the table. Arthur got up to help Francis, though he wasn't quite sure where everything went. Francis helped him put things away, and Francis' father got started on washing the dishes. Once the kitchen was clean, Francis' mother pulled some icing out of the fridge and began to frost the cake with it.   
  
    Francis, Arthur, and Francis' father sat back at the table once again and waited for Francis' mother to cut the cake. She cut rather thick slices and set them on plates that she had gotten from a cabinet before. She picked up the plates when she was done cutting the cake and brought them over to the table. She gave each Francis, Arthur, and her husband their plates before sitting down and setting her own plate in front of her. The four of them began eating eagerly.   
  
    While Francis' family was used to eating sweets like this everyday, it had been a while since Arthur had had something that tasted this phenomenal. Sure, there was always some sort of dessert in the cafeteria at school, but nothing that tasted quite like this. It was fresh and warm and homemade and it just tasted so rich. Arthur could hardly finish eating it.  
  
    Both Arthur and Francis' father let out a satisfied sigh and hum when they had finished their slices. Francis' father put his fork down on his plate and pushed his chair out from the table. Francis smiled at Arthur, and Francis' mother smiled at her husband.   
  
    "Was that good, everyone?" Francis' mother asked.   
  
    "Delicious as always, Mama!" Francis replied.   
  
    Francis' father nodded.   
  
    "Oh, it was lovely, Madame Bonnefoy. Thank you so much. I thoroughly enjoyed it," Arthur told her.   
  
    Francis' mother chuckled softly. "I'm so glad you think so,  _Papillon._  I was hoping it would impress you," she said, making Arthur blush softly.   
  
    It was late at this time, around seven o'clock in the evening. Arthur was supposed to be back at the school soon. It was time for Francis' mother to take him back.  
  
    " _Papillon,_  sweetheart, I think you should go gather up your things. I've got to take you back to the school soon," she said as she stood up from the table.  
  
    Arthur's face fell. "Oh, that's right... Bullocks..." he muttered, disappointed that he couldn't stay for longer.  
  
    Francis' mother chuckled softly. "Don't worry,  _mon chéri,_  I'm sure you'll be able to come see us again soon," she said.  
  
    "Mama, can I go with you to take him back?" Francis asked hopefully.  
  
    "Of course you can,  _bébé!_  Help  _Papillon_  get his things and meet me in the car, alright?" his mother replied.  
  
    "Okay! Come on, Arthur, let's go!" Francis exclaimed, grabbing Arthur's hand and leading him to the bedroom once again.   
  
    Arthur quickly grabbed his backpack off of the bed and dug through it to make sure that he was taking back everything that he had brought with him. Once he was sure that he had everything with him, he slung the backpack over his shoulders, and he and Francis left the room again. Francis led Arthur outside and to the car through the front door, making sure to lock it behind them. The car was already running when they got outside. Francis' mother was in the front seat, waiting for them.  
  
    Francis opened the door to the back of the car and let Arthur get inside first. Francis climbed into the car after Arthur was safely inside and closed the door. Once the two of them had buckled their seat belts, Francis' mother began driving.   
  
    It didn't take long to get to the school. It wasn't that far away. Normally, the school would have been closed and locked by this time of night, but Francis' mother had called the dean while she was driving to let him know that she was bringing Arthur back. The dean was waiting for them outside the school's front entrance when they pulled into the parking lot.   
  
    Francis' mother didn't bother to turn off the car before she, Francis and Arthur got out of it. It would only take a few seconds to drop Arthur off with the dean, anyways. Francis' mother made sure that both Francis and Arthur were safely out of the car and going up to the sidewalk before she followed them. The three of them walked towards the dean, who waved at them and smiled faintly.   
  
    "Ah, there you are, Mr. Kirkland. I trust that you behaved for Francis' family and that you had a good time?" the dean asked, to which Arthur simply nodded.  
  
    "Oh, he was an angel, Sir. I'd love to have him again sometime," Francis' mother said.   
  
    "Well, I'm sure we can arrange that. You're welcome to take him anytime you want, really," the dean said.   
  
    Francis' eyes lit up as an idea came to him. "Mama! Can Arthur come over to our house every Saturday? So that we can practice together?" he asked.  
  
    Francis' mother smiled softly. "Well, if it's alright with Arthur, then of course he can," she said.   
  
    Arthur's eyes widened slight and he nodded eagerly at Francis' proposition. "Oh, yes, I'd like that very much!" he exclaimed.  
  
    Francis' mother laughed. "Then it's settled. Francis and I will pick you up again next Saturday," she said.  
  
    Francis grinned at his mother before hugging Arthur tightly. "I'll miss you,  _Papillon,_ " he said.  
  
    Arthur laughed softly and hugged Francis back. "I'll miss you too, Francis. But we'll see each other again on Monday. It's not that long," he said.  
  
    Francis pulled away from Arthur and waved to him a little. The dean turned back to the school's doors and opened them before ushering Arthur inside. Arthur waved back to Francis before disappearing into the dark halls of the school. When the doors were shut again, and Francis and his mother heard them lock, that's when they walked back to their car.   
  
    Francis' mother opened the door to the front seat and got into the car. Francis did the same in the back. Both of them buckled their seat belts again quickly, and when they had both done so, Francis' mother shifted the car back into gear and drove away from the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this took long enough to write lmao. We got a little more action in this chapter compared to others!! From now on I don't think I'll be writing much about the school life, and instead I'll be writing about Arthur's visits to Francis' house on the weekends. This fanfic is going to take place over the course of exactly one year, but of course it is going to be very spread out. 
> 
> I hope you all are pleased with the discovery Arthur has made in this chapter! I've been waiting for a chance to use agender Francis since that is what I headcanon him as and I'm very glad I finally got the chance to do so. 
> 
> Also, I apologize for any grammar mistakes this chapter. It's late as I am proofreading and uploading it so i may not have caught everything but I really wanted to get this to you guys today.


	4. The Blouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur arranges to stay at Francis' house during fall break. On the first day of their vacation, they plan what they are going to do for the rest of the week, and Francis gets Arthur to try on some of his clothes.

    Francis' mother was able to arrange with the school so that Arthur could come to their house every weekend after that. On the days that Arthur could get a ride to Francis' house, he'd ride with whoever was heading out that way on that day at whatever time they were heading out, but if he knew that he couldn't get a ride, Francis' mother would come pick him up and bring him over early. The time that Arthur got to their place really decided how much work they could get done while they were together, but they always had fun, regardless.   
  
    The main priority of these visits was language tutoring, so of course, they had to get that done first. They always worked on English first, to help Francis become better at speaking so that he wouldn't feel so anxious in school. Teaching Arthur French was only the second priority, but nevertheless, both of them gave it just as much attention as giving Francis his English-Speech Therapy. Most days they spent an hour and a half with both languages, but some days it was less than that. Either way, both of them were making sound progress.  
  
    On the days that Arthur came over to Francis' house earlier, when they were finished with their language work, they wanted to find other things to do together. Most of the time, that consisted of helping Francis' mother unpack boxes, which Arthur was eager to help with. With the three of them working together, plus Francis' father helping on some days, they managed to get quite a lot of progress done.   
  
    In addition to that, Arthur became more and more comfortable in Francis' home and with his family, to the point where the dinners and lunches that he shared with them were lively and full of fun conversation. Arthur would help clean up after meals and generally knew how to make himself feel at home within their household. Francis' parents loved Arthur just as much as Francis himself did.  
  
    By the time autumn break rolled around in October, Francis' home was almost entirely unpacked save for a few boxes of little trinkets that no one was quite sure what to do with, and Francis was speaking English almost perfectly. Arthur wasn't doing badly with French himself, and could hold short and simple conversations about a select few topics. Despite the fact that Francis could now say Arthur's name without much difficulty, the nickname of  _Papillon_  stuck around, and Francis never called Arthur anything but that. Arthur didn't mind, though. He had always found the name rather cute.   
  
    Since autumn break only lasted a little more than a week for Saint John Academy, most of the boys who stayed in the dorms remained inside the school during the break and just went home to their families during Christmas break. Arthur, on the other hand, usually did go home during this time, but as much as he missed his family, he saw a different opportunity arise this year. The opportunity to stay with Francis for a week.   
  
    Arthur had, of course, been keeping in touch with his family while he was away. He called them every day if he could, or at least texted his mother and his brothers if not calling them. All of them knew all about Francis by now, and what the two of them had been doing together. Arthur's family hadn't met Francis' family yet, since they lived pretty far away from each other, but Arthur's family were happy to hear about Arthur's new friend and they were glad to hear that Francis' family was being so kind to him.   
  
    When the time of autumn break came around, the first thing Arthur did was ask his mother if it would be okay for him not to come home this week. She was shocked at first, and of course wanted to know why on Earth her baby didn't want to come home and see her, but when Arthur suggested staying at Francis' house over the break, she understood immediately. She thought it would be a good experience for him to stay with Francis for the week, and she said that as long as it was okay with Francis' family, he would be allowed to.   
  
    As soon as he had gotten an answer from his mother, Arthur had talked to Francis about it. When Francis had gotten the suggestion from Arthur, he spoke to his mother and father about it right away. Both Francis' mother and father loved the idea and couldn't wait to have Arthur staying with them for the week.   
  
    The day after autumn break had started, Francis' mother drove with Francis down to the school to pick Arthur up and bring him back to their house for the weekend. He had stuffed everything he would need for the week into his backpack. Pajamas, the few sets of clothes that weren't uniforms that he had brought to the school, his toothbrush, and some other toiletries, as well as his notebooks and pencils.   
  
    Fortunately, they didn't have much homework to do over the break, and Arthur had already gotten most of his done yesterday. That meant that this week would be mostly fun for Francis and Arthur. Arthur couldn't wait to get started.   
  
    It was around one in the afternoon when Francis' mother pulled into the driveway of their home once again. Francis and Arthur got out of the car as quickly as possible, Arthur grabbing his backpack as he did so, and ran into the house through the front door, which was unlocked at the time because Francis' father was working from home that day.   
  
    "Come on, we'll put your things in my room," Francis said, smiling at Arthur once they were inside.   
  
    Arthur nodded, and knowing his way around the house by now, began walking towards Francis' room without waiting for him to lead the way. Francis followed him quickly. Arthur opened the door to Francis' room and stepped inside before tossing his backpack onto the bed and unzipping it. He started digging through it and pulling his things out.  
  
    "I can hang my clothes up in your closet, right?" he asked, glancing towards Francis briefly as he was unpacking.  
  
    "Oh, of course you can!" Francis answered, smiling again and walking over to the bed. "I'll put your bathroom things in the bathroom," he offered, picking up the bags of Arthur's toothbrush and toothpaste and shower supplies, as well as his comb, and running into the bathroom with them.  
  
    While Francis was setting up Arthur's things on the bathroom counter and in the shower, Arthur walked to Francis' closet and began searching for hangers to hang his shirts up on and dug through his drawers, trying to find an appropriate place to put his pants and underwear. While he was putting his own clothes away, he certainly got an eyeful of Francis' extensive collection of rather stylish clothes. Almost everything in Francis' closet were dresses and blouses and skirts and very,  _very_  short shorts. He did have his school uniforms and two nice suits, but everything else was very girly. Arthur thought it was rather cute.   
  
    Arthur was finally able to put his clothes away a few moments after Francis had returned from the bathroom. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Francis had asked from behind him.  
  
    Arthur shook his head and stepped away from the closet. "Oh, no, I've found everything now. Thank you, though," he replied.   
  
    "You don't have many clothes that you brought with you, Arthur. Are you sure those are going to last you the week?" Francis inquired, tilting his head a little.  
  
    Arthur shrugged. "Well, I'm sure that as long as I wash them, it'll be fine. They're just what I brought with me to school to wear on weekends. I didn't need a lot of clothes since we wear our uniforms almost every day. I usually have more clothes back at home, but well, I'm not exactly back at home this time around," he answered, smiling faintly.   
  
    "I suppose that's true," Francis said, then giggled a little. "Of course, you could always borrow some of my clothes if you wanted to. I know I wouldn't mind. But they're probably not exactly your style..."   
  
    Arthur's eyes widened a little at the suggestion, mostly because it didn't really sound like a bad idea to him. Francis had always looked so good in clothes like that, though maybe it was just because Francis was a very feminine person overall. But still, it hadn't taken many visits and Arthur seeing Francis wearing skirts and dresses to make himself wonder what he would look like if he were to wear those same outfits.   
  
    "Well, I don't know, Francis. I mean, I have been kind of curious lately about how it would feel. I don't think I'm nearly brave enough to try it, though. But why do you like wearing clothes like that so much, anyways?" Arthur asked, closing the closet door and walking over to the bed to sit on it.  
  
    Francis shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. I think it's just that I like the way that they feel; the way they make  _me_  feel. They're loose and frilly and bouncy and they just... Make me feel very free and beautiful. And I do love that feeling a lot. They're a lot more fun than boys' clothes," he answered as he walked over to the bed to sit on it.  
  
    Arthur chuckled softly. "Well, they do make you look very beautiful, Francis. And I admire the courage that you have to wear those clothes. I know you're not a boy, but well, I don't know many boys who would be brave enough to parade themselves around in a dress the way that you do. I know a lot of people who are nowhere near as confident in their gender identity o-or their sexuality as you are," he said.  
  
    "I suppose I was very lucky then, to have grown up in such an accepting household. I was never taught to hate myself or the way that I am. I am who I am and I love who I love, and what I am is everything but also nothing at all, and who I love is everyone. There isn't anything wrong with that," Francis said.  
  
    "I know there isn't, Francis. Believe me, I do. But so many other people do, and it makes most people scared. Scared that they'll be teased and ridiculed and harassed simply because they aren't 'normal'. Simply because they love someone with the same gender, or because they don't feel like the person that they were born with the body of. It's terrible," Arthur muttered.   
  
    "You're very passionate about this subject,  _Papillon._  Why is that? Is there something that you want to tell me?" Francis asked, tilting his head a little.  
  
    "Wh-what? O-of course not, Francis. I-I'd tell you if there were something. I just think that it must be my duty to defend people like you. After all, you  _are_  my best friend. I wouldn't be able to stand it if I knew that you were being harassed because you aren't straight or cisgendered," Arthur replied.  
  
    Francis smiled faintly. "Well, alright. If you say so. And thank you. It means more to me than you realize to have so much support from you, especially in this new world where I am trying to fit in. You're my best friend, too," he said.  
  
    "Thank you, Francis, and you're welcome," Arthur said, smiling back at him.   
  
    "But you know,  _Papillon,_  you really could borrow my clothes if you wanted to. You said you were curious about them. If you wanted to wear them, even just around my house, the only people who would see would be me and my parents. We wouldn't tell anyone," Francis told him.  
  
    "Oh, I don't know, Francis... I know that your parents wouldn't judge me for it, but still... It would be kind of embarrassing," Arthur said.   
  
    "But is that the only reason that you won't wear them?" Francis asked.  
  
    "I... Well, I suppose so," Arthur replied.  
  
    "So you do want to wear them?" Francis asked.  
  
    "It would be fun to try them, yes," Arthur answered.   
  
    "Then you can't let a little thing like embarrassment get in the way! I was embarrassed the first day I came to school, but that didn't stop me from coming back. It was mostly because you were there to help me, but I'll be here to help you with this! And we can start small, too! You don't have to wear everything all at once. Why don't you just start with one of my shirts?" Francis suggested.  
  
    Arthur sighed softly. "I guess I could, if it means that much to you," he said.  
  
    "I just want you to try it because I know you want to, Arthur. I'm sure it'll make you happier. And if it turns out that you don't like them, well, I won't say anything about it again," Francis promised, smiling.   
  
    "Fair enough," Arthur said, smiling back at him.  
  
    Francis stood up from the bed and walked over to the closet again. He opened the double-doors as wide as they could go, and stepped aside so that Arthur could have a good look inside. "Pick anything you want," he said, grinning.  
  
    Arthur, too, stood up from the bed and walked to the closet. He stood at the entrance of it, pursing his lips in thought as he gazed at all of the shirts that he had to choose from. Francis hadn't bothered to pack away his summer clothes, so the closet was filled with tank-tops, crop-tops, and short-sleeved shirts, as well as the long-sleeved blouses that Francis usually wore if he wasn't wearing a dress. Arthur tried to focus more on the blouses. He wasn't brave enough to try anything revealing.   
  
    After a few minutes, he finally decided on pulling out a forest-green blouse with a pattern of intricate flowers and leaves on it. The fabric was very soft and loose; it wasn't form-fitting at all. The ends of the sleeves had elastic inside of them, so they would close around Arthur's wrists, but the excess fabric of the arms would give the sleeves a somewhat poofy affect. There were three buttons going down starting from beneath the neck of the shirt, though they were more for decoration than for practical use. The shirt was long enough to reach to just above Arthur's thighs.  
  
    "Can I wear this one?" he asked, turning to Francis and holding up the shirt to him.  
  
    Francis' eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly. "Oh, it matches your eyes! Of course you can wear that one,  _Papillon!_  You're going to look amazing in it!" he squealed.  
  
    Arthur laughed softly. "If you say so. Can I change in the bathroom?" he asked.  
  
    " _Oui,_  of course!" Francis replied, and grabbed Arthur's arm to pull him forward and start pushing him towards the bathroom.  
  
    "F-Francis, knock it off, I-I can get to the bathroom myself!" Arthur exclaimed, beginning to laugh harder.   
  
    "Then hurry!!" Francis urged.  
  
    Arthur pulled away from Francis and ran into the bathroom, quickly shutting and locking the door behind him. He laid the shirt out neatly on the counter before removing the one that he was already wearing. He folded his shirt up and set it on the other side of the counter before grabbing Francis' shirt and pulling it on. He was surprised at how well it fit him. A little tight in some places, but nothing that he couldn't get used to.   
  
    After he had finished putting on the shirt, he backed as far away from the counter as possible so that he could get a better idea of how he looked in the mirror. He looked up from the floor and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. When he saw himself, his eyes widened. He looked a lot better in the shirt than he had thought he would. It looked so natural on him. Not to mention that it brought out the color of his eyes more. Arthur loved it.   
  
    " _Papillon,_  are you having trouble with anything?" Francis called out from within the bedroom.  
  
    "H-huh?" Arthur asked, breaking his gaze away from the mirror and turning his head to look at the door. "Oh, no, I'm fine! Hang on, I'm coming out now," he called back before quickly unlocking the door and opening it.  
  
    Francis watched as Arthur stepped back into the room, now wearing the shirt that he had picked out from Francis' closet. Francis gasped softly and covered his mouth with his hand to suppress a delighted giggle that was threatening to escape from his mouth. "Oh,  _Papillon..._ You look gorgeous!" he exclaimed, though the words were a little muffled by the hand that was blocking them.  
  
    A soft red tint appeared in Arthur's cheeks. "A-ah, thanks, Francis," he said, smiling bashfully. "I must say, I do think that I look quite good in this shirt," he admitted.  
  
    "Oh, I couldn't agree more,  _Papillon!_  It looks perfect on you! I'm so glad that I got you to try it!" Francis exclaimed.  
  
    "Yeah, I am, too," Arthur said, his smile becoming a little more confident.  
  
    "Well, now that we've got you into that shirt, what would you like to do for the rest of the afternoon?" Francis inquired.   
  
    "Well, the way I see it, if we get all of our homework done today, then we'll have the rest of the week to do whatever we want together. So if it's alright with you, we should do that, and then we can discuss what we'd like to do for the rest of the week," Arthur answered.   
  
    "That sounds like a perfect idea to me! I don't have much left to do, anyways. I got most of it done yesterday," Francis replied.  
  
    Arthur smiled. "Same here! I'm sure I can finish the rest of mine in an hour or two," he said, going over to the bed once again.   
  
    "Then let's get started!" Francis exclaimed.  
  
   Arthur nodded and began to pull his school supplies out of his backpack. Francis knelt to the ground and lifted up the dust ruffle on his bed so that he could reach under it and pull a clear bin out from under it. The bin was where he kept all of his school supplies and assignments. He lifted the lid and pulled out everything that he would need to finish his homework with Arthur and set it on his bed. He then closed the bin and pushed it back under the bed. Finally, he stood up and climbed onto the bed to sit next to Arthur.  
  
    As Arthur had predicted, it only took the two of them a little more than an hour and a half to finish the rest of their homework. They had done their work in silence, and had put all of their supplies away afterwards, before reconvening on the bed. "So, what do we do now?" Arthur asked.   
  
    "Well, assuming you spend the weekend with me and my family, we're going to have eight days together, including today. We can't really do much today since it's already late, so we really only have to plan for seven days. But we should think of something fun to do every day that you're here!" Francis declared.  
  
    Arthur chuckled softly. "Well, I've already got one idea," he said.  
  
    "Tell me what it is, then!" Francis urged, smiling.  
  
    "A group of twelfth year students at the school put on a huge Halloween party every year that anyone is allowed to go to. You and I should go together!" Arthur suggested.   
  
    Francis' eyes widened in delight. "A Halloween party? I've never been to a Halloween party before! I'm sure it'll be so much fun! I'd love to go!" he exclaimed.   
  
    Arthur laughed softly. "Fantastic. The party's going to be held on Halloween, of course, which is this Saturday, the 31st," he said.  
  
    "Well, we know what we're doing on Saturday, then... But we need to get costumes before then!" Francis said.  
  
    "So we'll go Halloween shopping tomorrow," Arthur suggested.   
  
    "Right!" Francis agreed. "And on Tuesday we can walk around the town together. I haven't gotten to do much exploring since I got here. It'll be fun!"   
  
    Arthur nodded. "On Wednesday we can go see a movie or something, go out to eat somewhere..." he said.  
  
    "Thursday we can buy pumpkins and carve them and put them out on my porch!" Francis said.   
  
    "And on Friday, I know of this great place that hosts Halloween bonfires and has a wicked haunted house attraction. You know, where the people dress up as monsters and jump out to scare you while you walk through? My brothers and I go together every year, but it's always a long drive for us. You live so much closer!" Arthur said excitedly.  
  
    Francis' eyes widened a little. "You and your brothers go every year...? Are they going to come again this year?" he asked.  
  
    "Well, I... I don't know, actually. I could ask them if you want me to," Arthur said.  
  
    "Please do,  _Papillon!_  I've been wanting to meet your family for ages! It would be so much fun if all six of us could go together!" Francis exclaimed.  
  
    Arthur chuckled softly. "Alright, I'll ask them later, then," he said.  
  
    "I'm so excited!! I'm getting to do so many new things this year! Halloween is not a big thing in France, so we don't do trick-or-treating or anything like that. When I was little and we were in school, the teachers would let us dress up to come to class and we would get candy for doing our English lessons, but of course we grew out of that eventually. My parents and I would always carve pumpkins, but we didn't go to Halloween parties or anything. This is the first year that I am going to get to celebrate Halloween for real!" Francis explained.   
  
    "Well, we're going to make sure that you have the best Halloween ever, alright?" Arthur promised.   
  
    "I believe you," Francis said, grinning.  
  
    "You know, I haven't even thought of what I'd like to go to the party as this year... I mean, there's not often a lot of choices since I always pick from what's left in stock at the shop a week before Halloween, but still..." Arthur mused, humming faintly.  
  
    "Do you think we could find matching costumes,  _Papillon?_ " Francis asked him. "It would be so much fun to go in matching costumes!"  
  
    "Well, we could certainly try," Arthur said, smiling at him.   
  
    "We could be a witch and a warlock together! Or a skeleton bride and groom! Or pirates! Or...-" Francis continued to list off all of the matching costume sets that he could think of, his smile getting bigger with every idea that came from his mouth. Arthur listened to him, chuckling softly every now and then. He thought it was adorable how enthusiastic Francis was being about all of this.   
  
    "I'm sure we'll find something fantastic, Francis. Don't worry. I'm sure that we can find enough things to throw together from the costume shop. We'll have great costumes," Arthur assured.   
  
    "Oh, I wish that we could go costume shopping right now! I can't wait to see what we find!" Francis exclaimed.   
  
    The two of them continued to discuss the plans that they had for the week well into the evening. At some point, Francis had pulled an empty notebook out of one of the drawers in his bedside table, and they began to write down all of their plans inside of the notebook. They had filled up at least ten pages by the time they decided that they had done enough planning to make sure that their week was as fun-filled and action-packed as possible.  
  
    Arthur had made sure to text his brother Alistair as well, to see if he and the others were planning on meeting up with Arthur and Francis at the bonfire. It only took a few minutes for him to text back, saying that the rest of the brothers had said that they wouldn't miss it for the world. Francis had almost squealed with delight. He was so excited that he would get to meet Arthur's brothers.   
  
    The rest of the evening was rather uneventful, but that didn't make it any less fun for either Arthur or Francis. Dinner was just as delicious and lively as whenever Arthur came over to eat with Francis and his family. Francis and Arthur helped Francis' parents clean up, and the four of them ended up watching TV for the rest of the night, until everyone got tired and decided that it was time to sleep.  
  
    Arthur and Francis took turns brushing their teeth and getting changed into their pajamas, and once both of them were ready for bed, it was time to decide where to sleep. There was a guest bedroom in Francis' house, but there wasn't a bed in it yet. Francis had sleeping bags and an inflatable mattress in a closet somewhere, but said that he'd feel bad if Arthur had to sleep on something as uncomfortable as that while Francis was in his own bed.  
  
    Finally, Francis suggested the idea of both him and Arthur sleeping in his bed together. It was certainly big enough for both of them to fit comfortably on it and leave each other with space. Francis said that he wouldn't have found it awkward or uncomfortable, and that he'd be perfectly okay with it if Arthur was, too. Arthur ended up decided that the best idea was for them to share the bed, and that he didn't find it awkward, either.   
  
    With that decided, Francis turned down the comforter, and told Arthur to pick whatever side he wanted. Arthur ended up climbing into bed on the side that was further away from the bedroom door. Francis smiled at him faintly before going to turn the lights off in both the bedroom and the bathroom. After it was dark, Francis quickly walked back to the bed and jumped into it. He laid down and shuffled himself under the covers before turning to face Arthur.  
  
    "Goodnight,  _Papillon,_ " he whispered.  
  
    "Goodnight, Francis," Arthur whispered back, and those were the last words heard from either of them before they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another kind of uneventful chapter ahhh /// The only thing I'm super proud of is the conversation leading up to Arthur trying on Francis' blouse. This story is a lot slower than most of the ones I write, so while I am proud of it, I find that I don't enjoy it as much as some of my other stories. I hope that the chapters leading up to the Halloween party will be more eventful, and the chapters after that, because I am going to try to steer away from their school life as much as possible. Hope you all are still enjoying this!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of a post that I made on tumblr a little while ago ( http://pocket-sized-france.tumblr.com/post/120648915633/imagine-francis-being-a-child-who-had-just-moved ) I had already thought about writing a fic before I posted the prompt on tumblr, but my motivation skyrocketed when the post began getting a ton of notes and people were saying in the tags that they wanted a fanfiction. Admittedly, this fic is going to have a lot more depth to it than the original prompt implies, and there is going to be a much heavier meaning to the "Papillon" metaphor. I'm very excited to see where this goes, and I hope that you all enjoy it.
> 
> Also, I apologize deeply if anything I portray inside the school seems inaccurate. I've actually never been inside a public or private school other than to take standardized tests; I've been homeschooled all my life. That being said, everything I know about public education comes from books, TV shows, video games, and movies. I hope I don't fuck anything up too badly |D


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